


It's Shake 'n Bake, and I Helped!

by blue_fjords



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bodyswap, Fluff, Future Fic, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Multi, Pack Family, Unplanned Pregnancy, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 05:37:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_fjords/pseuds/blue_fjords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started on a rainy Tuesday in early May of his senior year.  Stiles went into Derek's Loft 2.0 with cherry intact and left six hours later, having lost both his virginity and his old purple hoodie.  He immediately called Scott and teased him with all the gory details, and when Scott hung up on him, he called Lydia.  Lydia, at least, listened to everything, and talked him through a tricky little tangle he'd come up with while working on his newest batch of talismans.  (No one else liked the idea of Stiles experimenting with magic, not since the weekend Scott could only talk in animal noises thanks to Stiles substituting a key ingredient in a Dr. Doolittle potion.)  Stiles went to sleep that night a little punch-drunk, a little smug, and a little hungry for Cheez-Its.</p><p>Nine months later, Lydia gave birth to Stiles & Derek's love child.  It was completely beautiful and stress-free.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Shake 'n Bake, and I Helped!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tryslora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/gifts).



> I have to admit, tryslora, I was quaking in my boots when I got my assignment. I didn't write you quite a threesome or an mpreg, but this is as close as I get. Plus, magic!Stiles and body swap! I DID get those in there. And Jackson came back from London! This turned out to be a lot of fun to write, and I'm glad I got you. I hope you enjoy, and happy holidays!
> 
> Super awesome thanks to sullymygoodname for the beta. One of these days I will finish a fic early and we'll keel over from shock. I almost gave this a respectable title, but I couldn't resist the reference. Apologies to everyone who has never experienced the glory of Shake 'n' Bake.
> 
> Including a WARNING here: I did not label this as non-con, but a character does magically get pregnant in a surrogate situation, so it's a little dub-con in that respect. Just want to make sure everyone is sufficiently prepped before diving in.

It started on a rainy Tuesday in early May of his senior year. Stiles went into Derek's Loft 2.0 with cherry intact and left six hours later, having lost both his virginity and his old purple hoodie. He immediately called Scott and teased him with all the gory details, and when Scott hung up on him, he called Lydia. Lydia, at least, listened to everything, and talked him through a tricky little tangle he'd come up with while working on his newest batch of talismans. (No one else liked the idea of Stiles experimenting with magic, not since the weekend Scott could only talk in animal noises thanks to Stiles substituting a key ingredient in a Dr. Doolittle potion.) Stiles went to sleep that night a little punch-drunk, a little smug, and a little hungry for Cheez-Its.

Two days later, Derek left Beacon Hills again at a frantic summons from Cora, this time with promises to keep in touch.

Cora had fallen down a well or something. It was all very dramatic in typical Hale fashion. Stiles imagined there was a whole lot of non-communication and leaping around.

What was more pressing to Stiles was that Derek didn't come back right away this time.

At least not until the end of August, when Stiles was packing up his room for the big move to college, Conveniently Located University Where All Your Friends Are Going and the Curriculum Is Sufficiently Advanced and Prestigious Even for the Geniuses Among You – CLU – and Lydia walked into his house, straight from her return flight from London, looking peaky.

"Congratulations, Stilinski, you're going to be a father," she said. "You have any Cheez-Its?"

***

"But… you've never slept with Lydia. Right?" Scott was doing the same head tilt Mrs. Jackie Paddington's terrier did. Stiles was tempted to tell him, but there were (slightly) more pressing matters at hand.

"Nope. Still just the one person on the sex front," Stiles answered, pacing a hole into the living room carpet. Lydia was up in Stiles' bed (now there was a phrase he never thought he'd utter), snoozing through her jetlag.

"Okay. And not to… cast any aspersions on her character," Scott said. Stiles gave him an impressed nod and earned a smile. "But why does Lydia think you're the dad? She just spent almost three months in London – with _Jackson_. I support Lydia's choices of partners wholeheartedly," Scott continued, holding his hand up in what Stiles privately called 'Scott's benevolent Alpha pose.' "I just think… doesn't that make more sense?"

"It would, except she said she was pregnant before she went to London." Stiles threw himself down into the armchair. And now for the most unbelievable part. "She said she wasn't the mother."

"Dude! Really? Who is?"

Stiles looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. "There isn't one. She says the kid is mine and Derek's."

Silence followed that statement. Stiles finally risked a peek at Scott, only to find Scott frowning down at his phone.

"Dude!" Stiles protested. "Crisis here!"

"He didn't answer my call," Scott said, looking up. "Call on your phone."

"What? Who, Derek? No! I don't need Derek to hold my hand. He's busy with his family, and we didn't say, you know, that we were… whatever."

"Stiles—" Scott started, standing up to give Stiles a hug or something equally supportive, but he froze halfway across the room, his jaw dropping.

"What?" Stiles asked, but the front door was already bursting open and Derek Hale ran into the room in full defensive mode, circling Stiles before catching him up in a rib-cracking hug. "Uhhhh…"

"Good, you're both here," Lydia said, coming down the stairs. She sat primly in the armchair Derek had just wrestled Stiles out of and gestured to the couch. None of them sat.

"Lydia, you said Stiles was in trouble!" Derek said, eyebrows in a dark vee. He hadn't let go of Stiles, either, which was a bit awkward. Stiles elbowed him in the gut, accomplishing exactly nothing.

"I'm perfectly peachy," Stiles snarked. "Not a care in the world."

"Stiles," Scott said disapprovingly, and wow, pregnancy (well, someone else's pregnancy) was really bringing out the adult in Scott. But before Stiles could get wistful about the halcyon days of their youth, Lydia opened her mouth and let out a little scream. It was a pay-attention-to-me scream, as opposed to death-approaches-on-swift-wings scream, but it did the trick. They all shut up, cringing.

"Now," Lydia said, fixing them with a steely glare, "sit."

They sat.

"I called you all here," Lydia said, ignoring the fact that Stiles was the one to call Scott, "because I'm pregnant with Stiles' baby."

Derek made a noise that Stiles was one hundred percent certain he hadn't wanted anyone else to hear, and the part of Stiles that was still mad at Derek for leaving him alone all summer took vindictive pleasure in it. 

The part that was attempting to be a mature adult was the part that hurried to add, "Our baby, Derek. She's carrying yours and mine."

Derek looked at him like Stiles had three heads. "I've never slept with Lydia," he said.

"Obviously," Lydia snapped.

"I haven't either!" Stiles protested. "Are you listening to what I'm saying? It's a Stiles-Derek baby. Just… in Lydia."

Derek was still guarded, shoulders hunched and eyes hooded, but he turned to look at Lydia. Stare at her lower abdomen, more like. She was still pretty flat, any bumps disguised by her outfit, but Stiles supposed Derek was using his nose and ears more than anything else.

"May I?" he asked, his voice more hesitant than Stiles had ever heard him.

Lydia gave him a sharp nod, and in a flash Derek was kneeling at her feet, his head pressed to her womb. The change that came over his face was immediate and miraculous. Stiles had _never_ seen Derek look like that – tender and awed and deliriously happy. It was insane. He pulled Lydia into a delicate hug. She, on the other hand, looked rather nonplussed.

"Thank you," Derek whispered, breathing in the scent of Lydia's hair. And hell, probably the smell of fetus juice and whatever else was going on down there.

Stiles exchanged a glance with Scott. This was not going the way he thought it would.

***

"Those talismans you were working on last May?" Allison asked, frowning in thought. "Wait. You gave me one, too! All I got was a milkshake."

"And you're upset about that why?" Stiles asked, panting with effort. What the hell did Lydia have in these boxes anyway?

"Don't take two at once; you'll strain something," Allison said, shifting his top box onto her box and heading down the stairs. Carrying two boxes, naturally. Stiles trudged after her, trying not to trip and send Lydia's possessions tumbling. "I just meant, it would have been nice if you wished I had a new car, or those arrows that explode on impact."

"Stiles isn't going to play around with those things anymore," Lydia said sharply. "Boxes in the van."

By virtue of being pregnant, Lydia didn't have to carry so much as a pillow in her move from home to school. Instead she directed traffic: Stiles and Allison with the boxes, Derek and Scott with furniture. Stiles wondered how Isaac got out of doing this, but when he asked Scott, he'd just shrugged and said Isaac was doing a favor for Derek. Stiles would have happily volunteered to do a favor and left the boxes to someone with werewolf strength, but Derek hadn't asked him.

Derek had been acting squirrelly all week, disappearing from Beacon Hills completely when not waiting on Lydia hand and foot until it was too much for her and she'd yelled at him to leave her alone; she had every intention to carry the baby to term and hand it over when it was born. Which totally threw Stiles for a loop – he'd spent days researching magically conceived babies and how they intersected with reality. Though everything pointed to the same process as natural birth, with the same choices, he hadn't really expected the issue to be such a foregone conclusion to Lydia.

But there she was, nodding approval at how Derek loaded a loveseat into the truck – Stiles thought it came from the Martins' guest house; in fact very little in the way of furniture was being sacrificed from Lydia's room – and there was Derek, preening under the praise. It was bizarre, and not at all upsetting that they were basically bros now.

Once they were back upstairs, Stiles dragged Allison into Lydia's bathroom and turned the fan on, and the faucet for added security.

"Are you at all weirded out by how close Derek and Lydia are now?" he whispered.

Allison gave him a sympathetic smile. "I think it's a good thing. For the baby."

"That's my baby, too!"

"And you're already very close to Derek and Lydia," Allison said. "The two of them need to… connect or something."

"How are you okay with this? And I'm not _that_ close to Derek."

He had thought he was, even before the v-card taking incident. They _got_ each other, or so Stiles thought. But Derek still ran away for three months, and ever since he was back, it was Lydia this and Lydia that. They hadn't even talked about co-parenting. They were going to have to talk about co-parenting.

And tell Dad he was going to be a grandfather. Now that was a conversation Stiles was waiting to have until after he moved out.

"It doesn't matter if I'm okay with this or not," Allison said, and Stiles re-focused on her. "It's Lydia's body and her emotional investment. I've done the whole 'I think I know what's best for you' thing with Lydia before – didn't work out so great."

Stiles nodded. Understatement.

"That's very mature of you," he said seriously. Allison snorted.

"Not to say I'm not bracing myself for when the shit hits the fan," she said dryly. "And what about you?"

"Me? Oh, I'm great." Stiles waved a dismissive hand. "Pfff, being a father at nineteen – wait, will I be nineteen by the time this baby comes? How do you math? How do you father?"

Allison gave him a concerned look and opened her mouth—

"Are you guys okay in there?" Scott asked, knocking on the bathroom door.

Stiles hurriedly turned off the water and opened the door.

"Peachy!" he said. "You don't want to go in there for another five minutes," he stage-whispered to Scott, who just looked confused at the lack of smell.

"Okay," Scott said uncertainly. "Um, Derek and I finished with the boxes. You ready to go?"

"Yeah, let's check out Lydia's new digs," Stiles said, and led the way downstairs, ignoring the look Scott and Allison exchanged behind his back, glad that Allison's policy of not telling her friends what to do extended to him, too. "What's the address, anyway?"

"It's less than a mile to the CLU Math Department," Lydia said, looking up from her checklist. "You can give me a ride, Stiles."

Stiles' pleased grin lasted until they pulled out of the driveway and Lydia turned to him and said, "Don't freak out."

"Well, that's not guaranteed to freak me out or anything," Stiles muttered.

"Derek bought a house," Lydia said.

"He—what? What do you mean, Derek bought a house?"

"I thought I was quite clear. Derek bought a house."

"Is that where we're going? He bought this house for you?" _What the fuck?_ "What the fuck?"

"Stiles, keep your eyes on the road," Lydia commanded, and he had not been veering at all, that was crazy talk. "He wanted it to be a surprise—"

"Oh, during all your little one-on-one conversations lately?"

"—but I told him you needed some warning! You might not even want to live with us, and I can't even tell if you're excited about this baby. It was your wish, you know; it wasn't mine!"

Stiles' head hurt. "Back up. Derek bought a house, for the three of us?"

"And Isaac. And Jackson. Turns out I got my wish after all."

"How big is this thing?"

"Big. It was the best one on the market, trust me."

"You've been back a week! Holy shit, Lydia!"

"There's a room for Scott and Allison, too, but I haven't mentioned it yet. Thought I should tell you first. Oh, you need to take this exit."

Stiles flicked his blinker on by rote. "Does he even want me to live there?"

"Of course he does! Don't be so melodramatic. I'm the one with crazy hormones here."

"Well, he has a shitty way of showing a guy."

"It's Derek. Miscommunication is one of the cornerstones of his personality. I thought you liked him anyway?" A tiny frown appeared on her forehead, the first sign that any part of this conversation wasn't going expressly how she'd wanted it to.

"He left me for over three months. It does not take that long to pull Cora out of a well, okay."

Lydia was silent for a minute. "He told me he got up to make you a late dinner and you snuck out."

Stiles flushed. "He could have _said_ something! I saw him the very next day, everything was fine, and then he left!"

Lydia shrugged her shoulders. "Turn right here. Look," she fixed him with a stare, as much as she could while he was supposed to be driving. "This is your baby together. If you don't want to participate anymore, you need to cut bait now. Don't drag this out until you're gone all the time and only seeing your kid to fight with each other."

Stiles winced. That night he'd been playing with the talisman – he'd been daydreaming, wondering what it would be like to stay with Derek, wake up next to him. Have a family, like when he'd been a kid with both his mom and dad, and Lydia had listened. Unusual for her, but apparently she'd been thinking about – love or whatever, if Jackson was moving back to go to school at CLU with them. They'd both been vulnerable, and connected by their voices on the wire.

If Stiles pulled out now, it would hurt. It'd hurt him, and Lydia, but it would really hurt Derek. A surprise house, really?

"I'm not going to flake out," Stiles said quietly.

"Good. Then turn left here."

They were really close to campus now. The houses in this neighborhood backed up against the wall surrounding the university grounds, and they were all huge. Stiles' breath caught in his throat when he recognized Isaac's car, a second-hand Toyota sedan, in the driveway of a sprawling stone and wood house with a large front porch. Isaac himself stepped outside as they pulled up and Stiles killed the engine.

"This place is _amazing_!" Isaac exclaimed, giving Lydia his arm to help her out of the jeep. "Wait until the get the grand tour."

They didn't have to wait long. Scott and Allison pulled up in the van, and Derek right after in the rental truck, and behind Derek was a delivery truck from a high-end furniture store Stiles had never set foot near in eighteen years of passing it almost every day.

Stiles tried to angle for a moment alone with Derek to talk (or yell), but it wasn't until two hours later, when Stiles was standing alone in a little room set up to be an office – his office, if the artwork (Artwork! By actual artists!) the workers had put up was any indication. He had an office, apparently, but no bedroom. Which meant… Stiles didn't know what it meant.

"Do you like it?" Derek asked, coming up behind him. Soundlessly, of course, causing Stiles to jump.

"I can't believe you went into full-on nesting mode and didn't say anything. Well," Stiles amended bitterly, "to me. Lydia and Isaac knew."

"I didn't buy anything for the nursery yet," Derek said, a touch defensively.

"Where am I supposed to sleep?" Stiles asked. There was no use beating around the bush. He was tired and cranky and overwhelmed, and Derek was standing there being Derek. Though to his credit he didn't look away when he answered Stiles.

"With me."

"Wow, that's…" Stiles blinked. Nope, Derek was most decidedly not kidding. "You have balls, my friend. Are we friends? Because I thought we were, right, and then you left. You missed graduation. There was a party. My dad gave me a beer. Total rite of passage, and where the hell were you?" Turned out he was angrier about the party than he thought. Dad took lots of pictures, and Derek was in none of them. It sucked. "Then you waltz back into town and buy the former love of my life this castle, and I don't even know your thoughts on pacifiers! What are you expecting from me, Derek, huh? Cuddles and Batman Band-Aids and PB&J's with the crusts cut off from now until forever? I'm eighteen! I thought I had ten years or more before I even thought about this shit."

Stiles stopped walking. He had to; he'd backed Derek into the wall and there was nowhere else to go. And Derek was letting him vent and posture, too, which just pissed Stiles off even more.

"Is it my turn yet?" Derek asked, his nostrils flaring. Angry _and_ cheating on the emotion-scenting, great. "I bought this place for all of us. I thought it'd be a nice surprise, and someone had to be the grown-up here."

"Gee, sorry I'm not rich enough to buy a house! Thank God we had this Real Man to look out for us!"

"And!" Derek continued, totally ignoring the interruption. His hands were heavy on Stiles' shoulders, but he didn't squeeze or shake. "She's pregnant because you wanted a baby and magicked one up! Yours and mine. What am I supposed to think, Stiles? You come over out of the blue, we make love…" _Oh my God, Derek was one of **those** people!_ "… and you sneak out, then pretend nothing happened! So which is right, you tell me – Stiles who was using me for sex, or Stiles who wished for _this_ with me?"

"I don't fucking know!" Stiles yelled back, shrugging Derek's hands off him. "I wasn't _using_ you; I just… how was I supposed to know what to do afterwards?"

The excuse was flimsy, even to his ears, but it wasn't too far from the truth. Give him kitsune, ghouls, evil Druids – those he could handle. A little research, a little winging it, and bam – problem solved! Derek, on the other hand, didn't use words and always leapt to the worst conclusions.

Derek's lips thinned. "For future reference, I always want you to stay."

And that was… a lot. In some ways it was even more unnerving than realizing that Derek bought them the house.

"Are you two done with your argument yet?" Lydia asked, poking her head around the doorframe. "Scott wants to check out three different pizza places to see which one has the best delivery."

"Very strategic," Stiles said, clearing his throat. Leaving the room was the best option, and he would, if his feet weren't rooted to the floor. "Tell him to carry on bravely."

Lydia raised her eyebrows as if to say she wasn't a messenger and Scott could damn well hear them himself.

"Be downstairs in thirty," she said and turned on her heel, leaving them alone again.

"I'm sorry I messed this up already," Derek said stiffly.

"You didn't." Stiles sighed. "Look, we both suck at letting things go, but our whole alliance, or whatever you want to call it, is based on looking past all that shit. So I won't throw in your face that you left and bought a house without telling me, and you won't throw in mine that I failed at afterglow and acted like a prick. Deal?"

Derek frowned, probably thinking about what his therapist would say – probably that all those things were indicative of worse problems. But ha, she wasn't here right now, was she? Nope! Stiles held out his hand and Derek hesitated only a moment before shaking it.

***

"Out with it, Stiles," Dad said, setting his half-eaten bacon cheeseburger tenderly down amongst the curly fries in his basket.

Stiles scowled into the depths of his mocha milkshake. He knew the meats and cheese and fried potatoes were a total tip-off, but his Dad just thought they were to butter him up for a big ask. In reality, they were totally to help Dad cope with the aftershocks.

Derek poked him in the side and Stiles sat up straighter in the vinyl booth. It was time to face the music. In a public setting, which was a bit of a cheat. But no way would Dad pull his gun on Derek at his favorite diner. Right?

"Well, first thing," Stiles said, twisting his straw wrapper. "I'm saving us a ton of money on room and board." Derek side-eyed him. "Okay, Derek is. Dad, I am living in sin with Derek Hale."

Dad didn't even blink, though Stiles was pretty sure Derek's ears were going to burn right off, they were so hot pink. And to top it off, they hadn't even had sex yet. Post-conception sex, to be more precise. Though Derek spooned the shit out of him; it was actually pretty awesome. And yesterday morning they made out for an hour, until Isaac pounded on the door and said Stiles was going to miss orientation if he didn't pull his neck out of Derek's mouth.

"You didn't order me a bacon cheeseburger to tell me this. I know for a fact that Scott and Allison are living with Derek Hale, too."

He did? Apparently Melissa and Chris made up some kind of bro warning system with his dad. Good to know.

"Yeah, but they're not sleeping with Derek. I'm sleeping with him every night."

"Platonically," Derek interjected.

"You're platonically cuddling my son every night?" Dad asked, eyebrows rising.

"It's not going to _stay_ platonic," Stiles argued. "And it definitely wasn't platonic last May. Which is kind of what I have to talk to you about, Dad." Dad's face was an interesting shade of fuchsia, but there was no nice way to say this, and Stiles had to spit it out before he chickened out. He'd had too much sugar and he could feel himself regressing. "Dad, I gave Derek my precious flower, and now we're having a shrub."

Derek let his head bang against the table. Dad just stared at him.

"I know you probably thought, 'Hey, I'll be a granddad in fifteen years,' but now you might possibly be a _great_ granddad—"

"Stop talking," Derek gritted out. He looked up, across the table at Dad. "Stiles and I are having a baby. It's magic. I promise you, sir, I will do everything in my power to make sure your son and grandchild are happy and safe their whole lives."

"Dude, that was kind of sweet," Stiles said, smiling.

"Let's back up," Dad said, his voice faint. "How--? Where--?"

"Good questions," Stiles said. "First: magic. Second: guys, you can come in now."

Scott and Lydia entered the diner and slid into the booth next to Dad. Scott threw his arms around him in a supportive hug and whispered something that Stiles couldn't hear but caused Derek to blush.

"So after Derek and I had our perfectly legal and consensual activity," Stiles said, "I was talking to Lydia on the phone, and we were going over this very tricky little spell. And. Turns out I really wanted a family with Derek, and I got my wish."

"So," Dad asked, frowning in confusion, "Lydia has to suffer? I don't understand."

"Sheriff Stilinski, I am perfectly fine with this situation," Lydia said, tossing her curls. "I just want to help Stiles and Derek."

All four of them gave her skeptical looks.

"Okay, I'm getting something out of it," she said. "But I helped Stiles figure out the talismans. We wouldn't be here if I hadn't." (Stiles longed to say he could have figured it out on his own, but that was hardly a guarantee. And if he had – what? Would he be magically pregnant? No, much better that it'd been a joint effort.) "I got my wish, too, and I'm not changing my mind about this baby."

She wouldn't, either. Lydia Martin did not do things by halves. Dad still looked like he wanted to talk her out of it. 

"Have you talked to your mother about this?" Dad asked with an air of triumph. Stiles resisted the urge to facepalm.

"When she returns from her journey of self-discovery, maybe I'll tell her then," Lydia said tartly. Some parents, when confronted with the truth about werewolves and banshees and Druids, oh my, joined their kids in a loose pack. Others bought a ticket with a return date in a year, to investigate runes scattered around Ireland. Lydia had met Ireland; he was very attractive, highly tattooed, and apparently an attentive lover. She wasn't expecting Gidget Martin to return before June. "But this isn't my baby and it's not her grandchild. It's yours. You need to understand that, Sheriff."

Stiles was marshalling his thoughts when Scott spoke up.

"I know it sounds crazy, Sheriff," he said. "But Lydia's been to see the doctor. The baby is healthy and – this is really weird – but its DNA isn't hers at all. It's totally Stiles and Derek."

Dad looked down at his half-eaten food. "You're still just kids," he mumbled. He took a deep breath. "You know I'll support you no matter what you decide to do," he said. "I just need to know: is this what you truly want _right now_? Because a kid is…" He sighed and rubbed at his forehead. "This is forever."

Stiles' heartbeat sounded loud even in his own ears. That was the crux of it, wasn't it? No take-backs, no do-overs, and the timing sucked.

"If I had known what would happen," Stiles said slowly. "I probably would have done things differently. But I didn't. I'm not going to regret the baby. I'm going to love it, and raise it in proper Stilinski fashion. With a side of Hale," he added.

"Okay, son," Dad said softly.

That night he and Derek went from platonic cuddling to living in sin – a really stupid expression, Stiles decided, especially for something that was way more like living in heaven. Which was too cheesy to say out loud, but then, Derek was the type of person to say 'making love' so maybe he would have been down for that. As it was, there was a lot of hand holding and gazing into each other's eyes, sweaty skin sliding together and broken moans. Stiles refused to be embarrassed about how loud he was, especially since Derek seemed to like it and slept the rest of the night with his head pillowed on Stiles' chest.

The next morning Scott couldn't look him in the eye and Jackson, freshly recovered from jetlag and enrolled in CLU, gave him a very sarcastic slow-clap.

***

College, as it turned out, was a lot of fun. There was a vast difference between sitting in a class with a bunch of people who wanted to be anywhere else (high school), and taking a class that everyone was paying for and had chosen. It would only get better after he knocked out his gen ed requirements. And living with all his best friends was better than expected, too. Everyone was too busy to get sick of each other, but when procrastination was in order, Stiles had easy access to a buddy. He even voluntarily hung out with Jackson one-on-one a time or two. London had made him more palatable – that, or Jackson was impressed enough by Stiles' improved magical skills to treat him with more respect.

Lydia must have taken the lion's share of the responsibility for her unintended magical pregnancy then.

In October, Derek took Stiles and Dad shopping to outfit the nursery. It was a nice touch, having Dad along. Dad got misty-eyed and told stories of Stiles as a baby, in between shaking his head at all the 'modern' stuff Babies R Us seemed to think was absolutely essential to childcare. Stiles was half-tempted to buy the wet wipes warmer just to see the look on Dad's face.

They went with a forest theme. Naturally. Everyone helped paint the room a pleasant green and decorate it with little woodland animals. Stiles and Lydia painted runes into the corners for protection and health. Allison bought them a rocking chair. Sometimes Stiles would get home from classes and find Derek in the baby's room, right next door to theirs, rocking gently in the chair and staring at the crib, a small smile on his lips.

The sight was usually a predecessor to mind-blowing sex, and Stiles was starting to wonder if he should worry about his near-Pavlovian response to Derek in the rocking chair.

In retrospect, Stiles should have known that his happiness couldn't last. The other shoe had to drop, and in this case, that shoe was called pre-registration.

It was the week before Thanksgiving, and Stiles was kneeling on the bed, fucking Derek with short, sharp jabs while he clutched desperately at Derek's sweat-slick hips. He was so close to coming, spurred on by Derek's panting grunts and the rat-a-tat of the headboard slapping the wall. Another few months of this, and they were going to have to repaint. Derek came first and clenched tight around his dick, Stiles swore loudly, and their bedroom door banged open, hitting the wall with a crack before bouncing back to the outstretched hand of Lydia "Pregnant Banshee" Martin.

"Lydia!" Stiles gasped.

Derek growled.

"No, I mean she – fuck – she's in the room."

He couldn't hold out any longer, not even his embarrassment at having his former crush walking in on him could compete with the tight, clenching heat of Derek's ass.

Stiles came out of his sex fog to Lydia throwing a blanket at his head.

"Stiles Stilinski, we have a big problem!" she announced. 

Derek gave an involuntary yelp when Stiles pulled out with a complete lack of finesse, and twisted around so both of their groins were covered by the blanket.

"What the hell, Lydia?" Derek grumbled.

"Shut up." Lydia sat on the end of the bed. She was just beginning to show, and moving with a bit less grace than usual, and dropped heavily onto the mattress. "Do you know where I just was? Shut up, I'm telling you. I was in my advisor's office. And do you know what he said? He said, _'Why haven't you turned in your paperwork to defer next semester?'_ What the hell? This is a surrogate pregnancy; I've always been very clear. This isn't my baby!"

And she burst into tears. Stiles ran through about twelve different things he could say, but Derek just reached out and gently pulled her up the bed to snuggle in between them. Above the blanket, thankfully.

"How can you be so calm?" she wailed. Stiles patted her shoulder awkwardly. He'd been wondering the same thing. Derek had taken to this entire situation – impending fatherhood, living with a pack, even being Stiles' devoted Lover-with-a-capital-L – like a duck to water. 

Derek shrugged. "Therapy."

"Dude," Stiles said, shaking his head. Going for the flippant answer was his job, not Derek's.

Derek rolled his eyes. "Look, how many times have we all almost died? Two dozen? Three?" He kissed Lydia's forehead. Stiles eyebrows shot up to his hairline. That was the kind of physical affection Derek really only gave to Stiles. Not even Cora got forehead kisses. "Whatever happens here, you can handle it, Lydia. And if it gets bad, I know a guy who does magic. He'll figure something out."

"Sure, go ahead and volunteer me," Stiles murmured, but he was smiling. That was by far the most optimistic speech he'd ever heard from Derek.

Derek's newfound optimism came in handy as Lydia's hormones started to really run amok. Stiles immediately went into research mode and found two things: each pregnant woman reacted differently to pregnancy and he sure as hell didn't want to work any magic on her hormones. Thanksgiving was, to be blunt, a clusterfuck. Stiles wound up doing a massive amount of dishes with Isaac and Chris Argent while Dad and Derek calmed Lydia down with _Emmett Otter's Jugband Family Christmas_ in one room, and Scott, Melissa, and Allison convinced Jackson not to move back to England in another room.

Chris managed to salvage an entire chocolate pecan pie from the post-dinner hysterics. Thanksgiving night was much better than Thanksgiving day.

The next Monday, Stiles got back from class to find Scott and Jackson glued to an ABC Family holiday movie and inspiration struck like a bolt of lightning. 

"Eureka!" Stiles shouted.

"Huh?" Scott asked, tearing his eyes away from the screen.

"Can it, Stilinski," Jackson hushed him. "I need to see if they get together in the end."

"It's an ABC Family holiday movie. They always get together in the end," Stiles informed him. Jackson leaned back, disgusted, but Stiles talked right over that frowny face. "The important thing is I know how to help Lydia now! Just need to find the right spell, and the ingredients, and oh yeah, should talk to her about it…"

His voice devolved into mumbling as he ran upstairs to his office, but that was okay as neither Scott nor Jackson had followed him. ABC Family. Those holiday movies were like _crack_. 

A couple of hours later he lifted his head from a research daze to find Derek sacked out on the little couch across from his desk.

"Oh," Stiles said, surprised. "How long have you been there?"

"Since Scott and Jackson started the one where Melissa Joan Hart kidnaps Mario Lopez, and he proposes instead of pressing charges," Derek said, yawning.

"You seem awfully familiar with that."

"Laura loved ABC Family. Those holiday movies are like crack."

Stiles' face split into a wide smile. "Guess what I'm holding in my hot little hands?" he asked. "I'll tell you: salvation."

Derek rolled onto his side, the better to fix Stiles with a skeptical look.

"Okay, no, it's that book we got last year from that hunter who kept hitting on Allison," Stiles said. "Remember him? Halitosis, really long eyelashes, sexy voice, but seriously, worst halitosis ever. Anyhow, point: I think I've hit on a way to help Lydia."

"And that way would be…?"

"We Freaky Friday this bad boy!" Stiles announced excitedly. "Whenever she's feeling overwhelmed, we just switch places. Presto-chango, I deal with hormones and go to her classes, she relaxes and goes to mine. No problemo."

"Just like that?" Derek asked, frowning. "You can just switch back and forth that easily?"

"Yeah, sure. It's just reading the instructions." Stiles waved a dismissive hand. "Easy-peasy."

***

Four hours later, Stiles watched the very surreal image of his body attempting to flounce up the stairs and had to admit to himself that it was not, in fact, easy-peasy.

"Lydia, could you just," Stiles said. Man, he'd never realized how very high Lydia's voice was before. High, and a bit raspy, but that was nothing compared to the smell of her perfume when he couldn't walk away from it. Did she put that much on every day? It was overwhelming! The whelm was completely bowled over.

"Could I just what?" Lydia snapped in his voice, turning on the stairs and putting her – his own – hands on her – his – hips. "I know. Could I just change us back? No, I don't think so, because I'm not totally human and you didn't read the fine print!"

"Enough," Scott said firmly. In his Alpha voice, no less. Stiles found himself straightening and turning to him which, huh, apparently Lydia's body was more affected by the urge to obey the Alpha than Stiles'. Interesting. "Stop arguing," Scott continued. "We need both of you to help figure this thing out."

Scott gestured to the coffee table where Allison and Derek had spread out most of Stiles' magic books after the fourth attempt to test the body swap failed. Well, to test the _returning_ of consciousnesses to their appropriate host bodies failed. The initial swap was a resounding success, and now Stiles was in Lydia's six-months-pregnant body, Lydia was in his, and every attempt on the presto-chango back was met with dismal failure.

Jackson punched a hole in the wall after the third hour. He and Isaac were still at the hardware store looking for spackle. Maybe a piece of wood, too. Jackson didn't have particularly big hands, but he had a werewolf's strength. Plus, he was pissed.

Lydia huffed loudly (Wow, did he really sound like that? It was really annoying; how had he ever survived to adulthood?) but joined Allison and Derek on the floor and grabbed a book. Derek studiously didn't look at her. That was… not good.

"Stiles, could you give me a hand in the kitchen? Everyone could deal with something to drink," Scott said.

His best friend radar pinging – and thank goodness he hadn't lost that, too – Stiles followed him into the kitchen. He almost walked into a wall twice and tripped over his feet once. This body was ridiculously out of proportion to what he was used to; that was his story and he was sticking to it. 

Scott ran the water in the sink and flicked on the garbage disposal before talking in a whisper. Stiles leaned in close to hear.

"Derek's freaking out a little," Scott said with no preamble. "I know it might be… weird… but you should probably, you know. Touch him. A little. When we go back out there."

"Touch him," Stiles repeated.

"G-rated touching!" Scott added. "Like on the shoulder or something."

"Glad you clarified that, Scotty, or things might have really gotten awkward."

Scott grinned. Some things never changed. "I'm so glad you're still in there," he said sincerely.

Stiles' eyes began to water. "You're a really great guy, Scott," he said. "I love you so much." Tears trickled down his cheeks. "Holy shit, hormones _suck_."

Scott laughed and pulled him into a hug. Stiles fit all weird. He sighed.

"This is the weirdest I've ever felt in my life," he mumbled into Scott's… chest, because he was shorter than Scott for the first time since eighth grade. "Triply weird."

"Wait until you have to pee, dude."

He _did_ have to pee, actually. It felt like there was a football pressing into his bladder, which was accurate as far as Stiles knew. He really should've researched the anatomy of pregnant women before coming up with this awesome plan. At least Scott turned off the water and disposal before they joined the others back in the living room. That helped, at least on a psychological level.

Stiles sat next to Derek on the floor, and after a pointed look from Lydia (his eyes really bugged out when he did that; something to think about when he was back in his own body), he adjusted his skirt to stop flashing everyone. Then he wrapped a hand around Derek's bicep, leaned his head on Derek's shoulder, and promptly fell asleep.

Pregnancy, man. How the hell was Lydia functioning?

He woke up a couple of hours later in his own bed, still in Lydia's body. Derek was sitting in the chair Stiles usually threw his clothes over, cleared off now, and looked up when Stiles blinked his eyes open.

"I'm still in Lydia," Stiles announced. "And I really, really have to pee." His stomach rumbled loudly. "Oh my God, I'm starving."

"Lydia's given you permission to pee," Derek said. "With the stipulation that you keep your hands to yourself as much as possible."

Stiles snorted. "Yeah, right." A horrible thought occurred to him. "Has Lydia peed in my body?"

Derek grimaced. "She made me go with her." He stood up. "I'll go warm up a plate for you while you go… do that."

It was surreal. How many years had he dreamed of seeing Lydia naked? And now here he was, in a position that was, in a lot of ways, more intimate than sex. It was something to think about after he dealt with pressing needs. He didn't know if it was the pregnancy or the female form, but he had never felt that much relief from a piss before in his life.

He was almost chipper by the time he awkwardly hoisted himself up onto a stool at the kitchen's breakfast bar, featuring a big bowl of chicken corn chowder. Isaac's night to cook, then. Isaac and Derek were hands-down the best cooks of all of them, especially if there were any desserts from Allison's dad to go with whatever one of them had created.

"You can have my piece of blueberry pie when you're done," Derek said. Stiles beamed.

"Why, Derek Hale, I do declare you must be in love with me!" Stiles teased. Only he didn't quite have a grasp of Lydia's voice yet, and despite watching her face for years, he wasn't forming her smile right. He could tell, because Derek froze at his words; just stared at him, wide-eyed. "Oh my God. You _are_ in love with me!"

"You're just figuring that out?" Derek asked faintly, which no. No, he did not get to pretend he knew that all along. He'd just admitted it to himself, and Stiles saw!

"Oh, I've known for months. You bought me a house, after all." _Holy shit, Derek had bought him a house!_ "You… were in love with me even back then." Lydia sounded flippant all the time. Why couldn't he sound flippant? Because this was serious. This was about Stiles-n-Derek, not dependent on Stiles-n-Derek-n-Baby. Or was it? "Would you have stayed away? If Lydia hadn't called?"

"I was already at the outskirts of town when she called," Derek said quietly.

"Oh."

Derek was right there suddenly. Stiles reached out with his short arms and petite hands to touch him and hold him close. Their lips touched, ghost-like brushes of open mouth against open mouth—

"What the _fuck_?!"

Stiles started violently and Derek leaped back. Jackson stood in the doorway, outraged from the tips of his toes to the top of his smooshed hair.

"Were you making time with my girl, Hale?"

"Hey, Jackson, Central Casting called," Stiles snarked, his heart rate settling. "They wanted to remind you it's 2013."

"Shove it, Stilinski!"

"Shut up, Jackson," Derek snapped. His nose wrinkled; it was adorable. The guy who was in love with Stiles was adorable. "What were you doing, sleeping on the couch?"

"He refused to sleep in a bed with me in this body," Lydia said, brushing past Jackson and padding into the kitchen. Stiles groaned. She was wearing the pink bunny pajamas Allison had bought him last year as a joke. They were footies. Lydia was evil. "But apparently that's not going to be a problem for Derek."

"Okay, kidlets. Time out." Stiles grabbed his bowl and spoon and took a big mouthful of his soup. Awesome work by Isaac, two thumbs way up. "Obviously we need to establish some ground rules," he said. Lydia watched him in disgust, no doubt reaffirming her conviction to never talk and eat at the same time. "Derek's in love with me, so it might be difficult for him to keep his hands to himself, but I think we can also all agree that he's the king of martyrs. Lydia, your virtue will be safe from here on out."

Now Derek was looking disgruntled – that martyr thing was one hundred percent true; ask anybody – but it was Jackson who responded.

" _Here on out_? Exactly how long are you expecting this screw up to last, Stilinski?"

"Until we figure it out!" Stiles said, spraying soup.

"I can't watch this anymore," Lydia said, averting her eyes. A bit rich coming from the woman wearing a dude wearing a pair of bunny footie one-piece pajamas. "Ground rules for tonight: no exploring. No making out with Jackson or Derek. We'll talk again in the morning."

She turned tail, literally, and went back upstairs.

"Dude, you should really follow her," Stiles advised him. "Just don't yank my dick."

"Don't yank Derek's," Jackson shot back.

Derek massaged his temple, the combined weight of their immaturity threatening to overwhelm him. "There will be no yanking of anything."

Jackson huffed, but he took off after Lydia. Stiles smiled innocently at Derek.

"Did you say something about blueberry pie?"

***

The next morning, Stiles woke up still in Lydia's body, held tight against Derek's front, with Derek's big hands cradling his pregnant belly. It was perfectly delightful and sweet, so naturally Stiles started the day in tears.

"You don't want me to switch back!" he sobbed. "You just want to hold my pregnant belly all day!"

They needed to figure this out before Stiles expired from hormone-induced mortification. And before Lydia put her foot in her mouth any further.

"Just wear the clothes I set out for you," she told Stiles over breakfast, eagerly gesturing for Allison to fill her coffee cup. Ugh, this meant Stiles would have to beg off caffeine. He was never, ever going to tease a pregnant woman again. "We'll meet back here after my class with Dr. Fenstermacher. Thank God I'm switched with you instead of Derek. I'd like to pass this class."

"Lydia!" Allison hissed, yanking the coffee away.

Lydia rolled her eyes. It looked extremely obnoxious. How did anyone put up with him, really, Stiles wondered. Tears threatened again, because Lydia was being mean to Derek or because Stiles was stuck in a pregnant woman, Stiles couldn't tell.

"I'm not saying Derek is stupid. He's just not smart like me," Lydia said.

Which of course Derek overheard, as he walked in right after. Allison busied herself with the coffee, but Stiles figured he didn't get an out and braced himself for some passive-aggressive drama. Derek was looking at him, like he expected something.

"What?" Stiles asked. "Lydia said it, not me."

"Derek is smart in _other ways_ ," Allison whispered, staring into her coffee cup.

"That goes without saying," Lydia said in a normal voice.

"There are some things you just have to say!" Allison downed her drink in one gulp, probably burning her tongue, and vigorously rinsed her mug out. "God, you two."

She left in a huff, which for Allison, Queen of the Cold Shoulder, was saying something. Stiles should probably apologize. _Lydia_ should definitely.

"It's…" Derek shuffled his feet. "I already knew you didn't think I was smart. You two are the brains of this operation." His fingers clenched into a fist before he relaxed them, and Stiles finally got it.

"Lydia was wrong," he said loudly. "I mean, look at us: we're trapped in each other's bodies and we can't get out. And let's not forget the magic baby. Whereas you managed to get a house where we can all live together. That's way better."

Lydia frowned. "Everyone's taking this the wrong way. Why would I want Derek to go to a math class for me? Math and science are for me and Stiles. If I had a history or English class, I'd rather Derek go in my place. This isn't a big deal."

Maybe not to Lydia, but to someone with Derek's level of self-esteem, it was a big deal. Stiles tottered to his feet and wrapped Derek in a hug.

"I just want you to know, I appreciate you, man," he mumbled into Derek's broad chest. "And I'm going to fuck you the first chance I get."

"Overshare," Lydia muttered. "Come on, Stiles, we have bio-chem in fifteen minutes."

Stiles wanted to stand on his tiptoes and give Derek a goodbye kiss, but he remembered at the last moment – tiptoes. He wasn't himself. Tonight, though – surely they'd be back by tonight, and could commence with the kissing and the fucking and general canoodling.

Only they weren't. Hours stretched into days, and days stretched into weeks, and before Stiles knew it, he had routines as Lydia. He was getting a lot better at choosing her clothes, a lot more frustrated (sexually), and a lot more weirded out by the craziness of being pregnant. Seriously, it was a damn miracle anyone was born ever. Things swelled up! He cried all the time, and ate when he wasn't crying. It was like there was a big book of pregnancy clichés and Stiles had to cross out every single one of them. There were whole days when Derek was the only one who could stand being around him.

To top it off, none of their experiments in switching back even came close to achieving the desired effect. The only thing that was kind of in the same ball park was the memorable night when Lydia turned her hair red – well, the hair on Stiles' body. They managed to replicate it, but on Jackson. And they'd been aiming for Scott.

Christmas arrived, and with the holiday came Cora, who found the entire situation extremely laughable. Derek hosted for the holidays, as he had the biggest house and it would be less awkward for Dad, Stiles thought, if he could be around both Stiles and Stiles' body. It got confusing. Stiles got confused. Dad, on the other hand, spent all of Christmas Eve swapping baby stories with Cora by the fire. She hadn't even been born when Derek was a baby, but apparently his toddler-hood lived in Hale Family infamy because she knew some doozies. Stiles fell asleep after the first one. It was exhausting, carrying around a fetus.

Jackson kissed Stiles' body's mouth on New Year's Eve. Everyone agreed to never talk about it again. (Stiles was sure Cora had video saved on her phone. She had taken an immediate dislike to Jackson. Stiles envisioned his future as a long line of holiday meals with various attendees complaining about spit in the soup.)

January started up gray and cold, and totally reflective of Stiles' spirits. He was going to be stuck in Lydia Martin forever, which was way, way too much of a good thing.

The worst thing, though, was he had never been so horny before in his entire life. When even a commercial for CashPoint turned him on, he broke down and begged Lydia to let Derek fuck him. Lydia listened patiently for all of two seconds.

"Stiles, are you trying to tell me you haven't gone exploring this whole time?" she asked, exasperated.

Stiles' mouth dropped open. "You've been playing with my dick!" 

Lydia had the grace to blush. "We said no touching within reason," she said quickly. "You get a boner every morning like clockwork. Really, what were you expecting? I didn't let Jackson touch it. You should be grateful for that!"

"I've never been attracted to Jackson! Derek isn't Jackson! Come on, don't tell me you've never thought—"

"Stiles, for my own sanity here, I cannot let my body have sex with Derek's body."

"But—"

"No." She wrapped long fingers over his mouth and gave him the patented Stilinski Stare. Curses, foiled again! "Look. I give you full permission to go to Allison and ask her to show you where I keep Miguel."

Stiles blinked and moved her hand. "You have a sex toy named Miguel?"

"Jackson thinks I named him Jackson," Lydia admitted. "Just, ask Allison if you can't figure it out. I really don't want to know about it."

That evening, Stiles kicked a curious Derek out of their room and locked himself in with Allison. And Miguel.

"You realize I'm not going to stay here while you use this?" Allison said, glancing at the door. "There's supportive, and then there's skeevy."

"Right, yeah, you can leave soonish," Stiles agreed, eyeing the little pouch in her hands. "So… lube?"

Allison shrugged. "You can if you want, but you don't need it. Are you…?"

"Huh?" He looked up at her face. She made a weird gesture. "Wet?" he guessed.

"Oh my God," she groaned. "If you have a girl, you're naming her after me. Yeah, are you wet?"

"All the time," he said ruefully. "Though I think it's a lot of sweat, too. It's like I'm carrying around an oven."

"Uh-huh." She pulled a vibrator out of the bag. "This is Miguel; he's a pretty fancy vibrator."

"So… no dildo?"

"Lydia didn't say anything about inviting Fabio to this party, and honestly, I think Miguel is going to be all you'll need. Plus…" She sighed and looked at the ceiling. "Just work on stimulating your clit."

Stiles gaped at her. "Allison Argent, I am so turned on right now. Fuck Fabio, give me Miguel."

"I don't think I was supposed to tell you about Fabio."

"Your secret's safe with me."

"Yeah…" She handed him Miguel. He was literally the most beautiful thing Stiles had ever seen in his life. After Derek's O face. And Scott the first time he helped deliver a litter of puppies. And Stiles' mom at their last Christmas dinner. Okay, he was one of the most beautiful things Stiles had ever seen. "You press the plus sign, it increases in strength. Press the minus enough, and he'll turn off. These arrows let you switch between settings—"

"There are _settings_?"

"My favorite's number six."

"Whoa, you use Miguel, too?"

"Of course not!" Allison sniffed. "I named mine Jennifer Lawrence, but if Scott asks you…"

"It's a boy named Scott, got it."

"Good. Well, I think you have it now, so I'm going to." She nodded at the door. "Though… you know where the clit is. Right?"

"I may be a Dereksexual, but I am an avid consumer of all kinds of porn," Stiles said. "I will find this clit and I will make it mine."

"Ugh."

She left then, but Stiles wasn't paying attention anymore. He shucked off his underwear, pulled up his skirt, settled back on the bed, and turned Miguel on. Miguel hummed a hello.

"Okay, Miguel," Stiles breathed. "Let's do this thing."

Women, as it turned out, could take a lot more stimulation than Stiles had ever expected. And though his belly was in the way and he couldn't see a damn thing, it didn't really matter. Miguel was the perfect shape. It may have taken Stiles a good five minutes to actually locate the clitoris, but that was like the Holy Grail. There were all these Little Grails to discover on the way there. And then once he hit upon Allison's favorite setting _and_ the clit – holy fucking shit.

Isaac pounded on the door an hour later.

"Stiles! Derek is literally dying out here. Could you please, please, _please_ give it a damn rest? You animal!"

Derek had to sleep on the couch in the living room that night, and from then on, Stiles took his Miguel-time on the couch up in his office.

***

As the delivery date fast approached, everyone got in on the search for a cure. It was Derek who hit upon a possible explanation.

"Listen to this," he said, raising his head from one of the latest books Deaton had sent home with Scott. He glanced around at the others. It was a rare night when everyone was home, and they were all gathered in the living room, researching body swaps (though Stiles was sure Isaac was surreptitiously researching for a sociology paper instead). "It says that a powerful trauma to one of the bodies will shock them into initiating a switch back on their own. You're scheduled for a powerful trauma in less than three weeks."

"So I get shoved back into my body just in time to give birth?" Lydia asked, eyebrows climbing. Stiles was immediately cheered.

"Small price to pay to have boobs again, right?" he asked. Lydia gave him a scathing look. "I'm serious, Lyds, these things are amazing."

"Quit touching my boobs," she snapped.

"Says the woman who was playing with my balls for months without telling me," Stiles muttered under his breath. All the werewolves in the room winced, and Derek gave Lydia a very flat look.

"Okay!" Allison said, picking up on the mood. "Who wants ice cream? My dad made brownies. I'm thinking sundaes…"

Perhaps it was the extra sugar in the brownie, ice cream, fudge sauce, and caramel syrup, but Stiles had the worst nightmares that night. It was almost like having a panic attack, only Lydia's body wasn't prone to panic attacks. He still managed to flail around in bed and punch Derek in the jaw before bursting into tears.

Derek turned the lamp on and gathered him up in his arms. Oh my God, Derek was going to make a wonderful dad! Stiles was going to suck, and their kid was going to hate him, but they'd love Derek. What if Derek was Daddy and Stiles got stuck with something stupid, like Uncle Stiles? What if the trauma thing didn't work and he never had sex again? 

What if he'd never be himself again?

He cried for three hours, and Derek took it like a champ, making shushing noises and rubbing his back. By the time Stiles took a quavery breath, they were both soaked.

"Ugh, I'm sorry I'm such a mess," Stiles sniffed.

"It's okay," Derek assured him.

Stiles bit his lip. "You're so Zen all the time now!" he burst out. "How the hell do you do that?"

Derek paused, like he was really thinking about it. "I just… you, and this baby… this is the best thing that's ever happened to me. And if it went smoothly, I wouldn't trust it." He shrugged helplessly. "But it's a little messed up, so I know it's real. Kind of my legacy at this point. And I still _have_ you. Maybe not in your body right now, but you haven't left. I guess I'm Zen because I don't think you're going to leave."

It had to be the longest speech Stiles had ever heard Derek give about his state of mind, and he'd really love to talk about it some more, but there was pain going on. Derek reached for him and paused, nostrils flaring.

"Stiles, I don't think this was just tears…"

"I totally wet the bed, dude," Stiles groaned. "My water broke."

Everything kicked into high gear. The entire household woke up and did the tasks Lydia had assigned them way back at the start of December. (There'd been rehearsals.) Derek helped Stiles to the Toyota. Scott brought the overnight bags and assured Stiles that water breakage did not mean he was going to deliver in the driveway ("We could still have hours and hours to go, dude!" Not exactly a comfort.). Allison drove. Isaac called Dad and Cora. Jackson called Melissa and Deaton. And Lydia flipped her shit.

"We're early! We're too early!" she babbled. It was the closest she'd gotten to Stiles' own speech pattern. "I'm not ready for this; I had six more articles I wanted to read to prep and I've only washed the baby clothes up through three months!"

"I can help wash baby clothes," Isaac volunteered, looking up from his phone. "Cora's two hours out, by the way; she asked you to hold it in 'til she gets here."

"Fuck Cora!" Lydia spit out. "First contraction he gets, he'll cave and that's going to be me in my body! And I am damn well going to push!"

"I look ugly when I do the crazy eyes," Stiles murmured. 

Scott snickered, Derek shook his head, and Allison floored it. She pulled up at the hospital right behind Dad.

"Where's Stiles?" Dad asked.

Stiles raised his hand and promptly doubled over.

"Look at that, Lydia," he said through gritted teeth. "First contraction and I didn't cave!"

Melissa burst out of the hospital doors with two orderlies pushing an empty wheelchair.

"Let's get you checked in, _Lydia_ ," she said, opening her eye wide in the McCall signal for being sneaky. The orderlies didn't notice; just tried to help Stiles into the wheelchair. They stepped back at one look from Derek.

"I'll get your forms filled out, and we'll see you in a few minutes," Dad promised, and then Stiles was being whisked away with just Derek and Lydia in attendance. That had surprisingly generated little argument – only two slots open in the delivery room, and everyone agreed unanimously that Derek and Stiles and/or Lydia should have those. Before then, though, there would probably be a whole lot of sitting around and waiting, and he'd have Dad and Scott and all the others there for that. There'd be tons of time between contractions. Right?

He was starting to panic. Just a little bit. It was probably just because the genius who designed this hospital made the lights way too bright. Who needed lights so bright? No one, that's who. And the hospital gowns were ridiculous, but they felt super soft. In fact, he was just going to go to sleep right now. That sounded like a good idea—

The pain that ripped through him then was unlike anything Stiles had ever felt. He would say, later, that it wasn't the worst pain he'd ever experienced (and Lydia would throw something at him in response), but it was definitely the weirdest. He blacked out for a few moments and came to on the floor of the delivery room, back in his own body, with Derek's arms wrapped around him and his anxious, stubbly face hovering right over Stiles. With a relieved sigh, Stiles pulled him down into a kiss that was perhaps a little x-rated for a hospital room.

It felt like every good thing all at once.

"Is that one okay?" the doctor asked, distracted by Lydia flopping around and groaning. "You should take him out—"

"No!" Stiles, Derek, Lydia and Melissa all yelled, Stiles and Derek more than a tad breathlessly.

"It was just a temporary thing," Melissa said smoothly. "He'll be fine. Isn't that right, _Stiles_?"

There she went, widening her eyes again. The doctor looked at her uncertainly, probably regretting whatever terrible thing she'd done to warrant getting shut into a room with fainting, making out attendants and a loopy nurse. Lydia took that moment to scream.

"Fine," the doctor snapped, focusing once again on her patient. "Get ready; we're almost there."

"Wow, that was fast," Stiles gasped as Derek hauled him to his feet.

"It's been four hours," Derek said, frowning.

"Really? It felt like ten minutes," Stiles said.

"Felt like four hours to me!" Lydia snarled. "Derek, if you don't take my hand, so help me _God_!"

They both hurried over and grabbed a hand. Derek tugged at the sleeve of his Henley, hiding the black marks Stiles knew were heading up his arm. Stiles gave her other hand a squeeze.

"Isn't this awesome?" he enthused. "Look at us! In matching booties and hairnets, having a baby, you over there, me over here, and we got Derek and Ms. McCall with us. And this doctor lady. She's totally going to deliver the baby! We finally meet the baby!"

"Stiles," Lydia panted. "Shut the fuck up."

"One more good push and we'll be crowning," the doctor said. "Where's the other nurse? He needs to get ready."

The door opened a crack and Deaton slipped inside. His scrubs had little puppy dogs all over the shirt. Adorable. The _world_ was adorable.

"I love everyone in this delivery room," Stiles declared.

"Good to see you're back, Mr. Stilinski," Deaton murmured.

"Love the outfit," Stiles said.

Lydia shrieked, the doctor went a bit glassy-eyed, and Melissa and Deaton delivered the baby.

"It's a boy," Melissa cooed. "He's beautiful!"

He looked like an alien, covered in blood and slime, and he cried loudly, vehemently protesting his emergence into the world. He was, indeed, taking the top slot of most beautiful things Stiles had ever seen. Both Lydia and Derek started crying, and Deaton helped Stiles cut the umbilical cord, which was probably the nastiest thing Stiles had ever seen, followed closely by the afterbirth shortly after and the time Derek got his guts ripped open by the kitsune.

Melissa cleaned his son up, weighed and measured him, and she and Deaton briefly put their heads together over the needles and vaccines. In no time at all, Melissa was carrying over a blanket-wrapped bundle.

"Who's holding him first?" she asked.

"Derek," Stiles and Lydia said immediately.

Derek was still crying, but his arms were sure. Stiles' breath caught in his throat as Derek crooned to their son, nuzzling gently at the baby's head. New most beautiful sight, and clearly this was going to be a Thing.

"Congratulations," Deaton said quietly. "It's a werewolf."

Stiles hooked his chin over Derek's shoulder and gazed at his son. He looked a bit like a squashed tomato, but maybe those were some handsome Hale features mixed in there. When Lydia tentatively held out a finger, the baby licked it and made a sound that Stiles could swear meant approval.

"You know he's my son," Stiles whispered. "Already head over heels for Lydia."

Derek shifted and placed the baby carefully in Stiles' arms.

"Oh my God, what if—"

"Shhhh," Derek hushed him. "We're fine."

Stiles melted easily into Derek's sturdy frame and gazed down at his son. That was how the others found them: a perfect family tableau. Deaton led the doctor out, still looking glazed over, as the others crowded around to meet the baby. Cora had arrived at some point, and Allison had called her father. Chris beamed like he'd delivered the baby himself; it was bizarre, but awesome. Jackson made a beeline for Lydia, relief evident in every muscle.

"That was the most selfless thing I've ever seen anyone do," he said, kissing her sweaty forehead. "You're so amazing, babe."

Lydia started crying again. "It's the hormones!" she hiccupped. "I didn't miss those at all."

Jackson gave her a kleenex and pulled her hair back, smiling a doofy smile that Stiles privately thought made him look a little creepy, though no one else seemed to agree.

"Maybe he's not so bad," Cora muttered, eyeing the two of them.

"I am so proud of all of you right now," Dad said, getting a little misty-eyed.

"Here, Pops, it's your turn to meet your grandson," Stiles said. Derek pulled a chair from the corner and Dad settled back in it, holding out his arms. Very, very carefully, Stiles placed his son in his father's arms.

"Hi there, little guy," Dad said in a gentle voice. "I'm Grampa. What's your name?"

Stiles looked at Derek. They hadn't picked a name. The one time Stiles brought it up, Derek said he thought it was bad luck to choose in advance and Stiles didn't want to press the issue. But Baby Stilinski-Hale couldn't stay that way forever.

"I think Derek should choose the first name, and I'll get the middle," Stiles said. He'd had the middle chosen for over ten years, bad luck or no bad luck. Though he had no idea which dead relative Derek was going to honor with a first name.

"Please don't make it rhyme," Cora said, nudging her brother. Derek huffed at her, but placed his hand very lightly on the baby's head. Stiles could swear their son was gazing up at Derek's face, infant eyesight be damned.

"There's been a lot of death in our family," Derek said seriously. "And someday your dad and I will show you how to honor the dead. But I would like your name to honor one of the living. So I'm naming you Martin." 

Lydia burst into fresh tears.

"That was so sweet," Stiles said admiringly. "And I love it." He was starting to get choked up again himself, even with the blessed relief of going Lydia-hormone-free. "Martin Scott, that's his name."

Both Scott and Melissa burst into tears.

"This is the sappiest pack of werewolves I've ever seen," Cora said, looking around the room in wonder.

"Get over here, kid, and hold your nephew," Dad ordered.

She definitely cried when Martin pissed himself the second she had her arms wrapped around him.

***

Six hours later, Stiles woke from a light doze, panicked, and nearly fell out of the uncomfortable institutional armchair. He was forgetting something; something important… his eyes were drawn to the window. Derek stood there, cradling Martin against his chest and looking out at the moon-drenched hospital parking lot. Lydia snored softly from the bed, her hand hanging off the edge.

"Jackson and Scott just left," Derek said quietly.

Stiles nodded, yawning. That was the last of them, then. Melissa had pulled some strings to get them a large private room, and let Derek and Stiles stay way past visiting hours, but there was a difference between two guests and eight.

"Do you want a turn?" Derek asked.

Stiles nodded again, and Derek settled Martin into the crook of his elbow.

"How are you feeling?" Derek asked, voice determinedly casual. Ha. There was nothing casual about this situation. Stiles may have been looking for easy sex that night, but he wanted what he got instead. Turned out magic was smarter than him.

Martin yawned, his tiny eyelashes fluttering. He was perfect, and all theirs. Well, according to Martin's doctored birth certificate, he was Stiles' and Cora's, with Lydia as the surrogate. But a Stilinski-Hale, all the way.

"I am feeling like I should experiment with magic more often," Stiles said. "Because this is the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I've met Miguel."

Derek snorted. "I have a feeling I shouldn't ask." He laid a broad hand on Martin's forehead. "Thank you, Stiles," he said, voice serious again. "I don't know if I ever said that. But thank you so much."

Definitely the best accident ever.

**Author's Note:**

> And here I am on tumblr! How exciting! [Come stop by.](http://bluefjords.tumblr.com/)


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